Half-Heartedness Doesn’t Reach into Majesty

Mysticism isn’t la-dee-da, namby-pamby, or just something from long ago and far away. It’s difficult to define, but it can be simply said to be an experience of the truly Divine, beyond words, beyond the self. True love can be a mystic experience – if you let it. Now consecrated to the Sacred Heart, I am called to surrender my will to the will of God, to be still and know… To fall so deeply in love that my submersion in love is eternal. And I do desire that my surrender be complete, that I give all of myself, consecrating and offering my person and my life so that “the entirety of my being may henceforth only be employed in loving, honoring, and glorifying Thee.” There should be no halfways about it.

With this in mind, I love the words of the 13th century Sufi poet Rumi, in his poem as translated by Coleman Banks. (I added the capitalization of majesty.)

Gamble everything for love,
if you’re a true human being.

If not, leave
this gathering.

Half-heartedness doesn’t reach
into Majesty. You set out
to find God, but then you keep
stopping for long periods
at mean-spirited roadhouses.

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I don't call myself a poet — but the beating of my heart is poetry. I don't call myself a theologian — but the light of my mind seeks the Divine. Who I am is a Child of God, a Divine Creation, a person devoted to being fully human, fully alive.